Broken
by LaraCroftTR65
Summary: Post Hunger Games - Peeta is trying to get his life back together, but everything seems to set him off on another venom-induced attack. At least he has Katniss to help him through the attacks. Although she may do more damage than good.


'Are you ever sober?' Katniss yells at Haymitch who was draped over the side of the sofa.

'What's it to you?' he slurs.

'You are supposed to help me look after Peeta! How do you plan on doing that if you can't even stand?' she shouts at him.

Haymitch rubs his eyes groggily and looks at me where I sit on a wooden chair in the corner. 'He looks fine to me,' he reasons and drops his head back over the arm of the sofa.

'That's not the point, Haymitch! Looking fine and being fine are two completely different things! You know he still needs help and you promised to give him that help, so get up and help him!' Katniss emphasises the last few words by hitting him with a cushion.

'Look, sweetheart, I know you were the mockingjay, but that's done. You don't have the right to tell me what to do!' Haymitch raises his voice.

My hands begin to shake. The shouting reminds me of the Capitol; all of the screams in the videos they showed me, all my own cries for help, the shouts of the men who tortured me. I feel sick to my stomach.

'Look at him!' Katniss yells.'His hands are shaking Haymitch. Does he look 'fine' to you now?' she spits at him.

'He did until you started shouting, sweetheart,' Haymitch snarls venomously.

My eyes begin to cloud over. My head reels, thoughts jumbling together in a sickening swirl. Katniss' and Haymitch's voices fade into a incessant drone in the background and my vision becomes blurred until I can see nothing but coloured blobs. My hands are shaking violently now and I clench my fists in a weak attempt to control them. I close my eyes as I taste the familiar metallic burst in the back of my mouth. It was going to happen again if they didn't stop.

The drone of their voices becomes louder and louder, buzzing around my head like angry trackerjackers.

A shiver runs through me as a silvery mist appears before my eyes. There is nothing I could do to stop it now, but if they would be quiet, it would help. But neither of them seems ready to give up the fight just yet. I can still hear the muffled shouts and screams.

'Stop!' I shout. 'Just stop it!' I don't open my eyes but the drone has stopped which probably means both of them are now looking at me.  
'Please just stop,' I plead quietly, burying my face in my jittering hands. My stomach is twisting itself in knots as I fight against the shiny mist.

'You can do this, Peeta,' I urge myself. 'You can fight this.'  
And then the shouting begins again. I can't hear what they say, but I can imagine the conversation.

It would be something along the lines of Haymitch blaming Katniss for causing this attack with her shouting and she would retort that she was only shouting because he wouldn't help.  
I can't stand any more of it.

'Ahh!' I scream and run from the room. I want to stay in my room but it would be too easy for Katniss to follow. I don't want anyone near me when I'm like this. I just want to be alone, so instead I race to the bathroom where I can lock the door.

I stumble into the room and fumble with the lock and eventually, it turns and locks me in, and more importantly, locks the world out.  
The metallic taste erupts in my mouth and I slide down the door, crumpling to the ground. I pull my knees up to my chest and clutch my head in my hands. My body tenses violently as the venom-induced images burst forward. Instantly, I am hurtled back through time to the Capitol. A burning sensation begins high in my left arm and spreads like wildfire through all of my limbs. A pained moan escapes from my lips as I relive my torture. My body is frozen; my muscles have locked in place. I can't protect myself from anything.

Something taps me on the head. My eyes are fixed ahead and it is impossible for me not to see the images that push through my hazy, muddled mind. Ahead of me, I can see Darius lying on a table, surrounded by Capitol citizens. A man with purple skin and a black tear tattooed under his left eye stands to Darius' left with a knife.

'It's not real,' I whisper to myself. 'This isn't happening.'  
But I can see it; I can feel it. This seems far to realistic to be my imagination.  
An agonised, guttural shriek pierces the air. Darius' scream is animalistic - his tongue was cut out as punishment from the Capitol. They made him an Avox and they made me watch as they mutilated him; to break me.  
The screaming subsides into pained moans.  
Another tap on my head. When I see what hit me, my stomach somersaults. I feel sick and I fight hard to hold down the contents of my stomach as I wretch violently. Lying on the floor in front of me is a bloody finger.

'This is not real. This is not real,' I repeat over and over again. Although, this is a memory that hasn't been altered. There was nothing...shiny about it. I've been told that this really happened when I was in the Capitol, as part of the torture. They killed Darius and Lavinia slowly and painfully, close enough for me to hear. Close enough for me to watch. And they made sure I watched.

Darius screams again. Then blood begins to drip down the walls and on to my face. I can feel the warm, thick liquid slide down my face and I scream. Frantically, I scrub at my face trying to erase the imaginary blood. The burning in all my limbs intensifies. I feel like I am on fire. Darius' screams echo my own as his torture continues.

'Stop! Stop! STOP!' I yell, but it doesn't help. There's no telling how long this attack could last.  
I claw at my skin, trying to stop the burning. A pain appears in my shoulders. It feels like I have been hit by a concrete hammer. My chest constricts and I cannot breathe. I gasp but I don't feel the sweet relief of air flowing into my lungs.

Rats crawl out of the floor and gnaw at my legs. Their sharp teeth rip through my flesh, tearing chunks out of me. I kick violently trying to stop them, but more and more of them appear, all biting at me. It is agony.  
I am vaguely aware that I am still screaming.  
This is too much. I bang my head against the door, begging it to stop. Tears stream down my face as I thrash on the floor. I hit my head against the door, again and again and again. Then I hit it one last time and mercifully, everything goes black. No more horrific sights, no more terrifying shrieks. No more anything. Just darkness. There is only relief to be found in the nothingness.

I squint out into the blinding, golden light.  
I mumble 'Ow,' then scrunch my eyes shut again.

'Hey sleepy head,' a voice sighs softly to my right.

I peek out bravely and see Katniss lying across an armchair, feet dangling over the side. She rests her head on her hands. Her eyes look tired; there are dark circles underlining her brown eyes. She flashes a sleepy, half smile at me and stretches like a cat in the sunlight.

I glance around the room. I stare at the familiar white ceiling, the dark blue bed sheets, the countless drawings decorating the walls. Katniss lounges in the blue armchair, watching me patiently as my location registers with me.

'How did I end up in my room?' I ask, puzzled. Last thing I remember was being locked in the bathroom of my house. Then everything went black and I appeared in my bed. What happened? How long had I been out? Why did Katniss look so tired? The questions were forming on my lips when Katniss spoke.

'How are you feeling today?' She asked quietly, still watching me intently, never moving as if she was afraid to set me off. A pang of guilt stabs me in the stomach. She has to be tentative near me in case I turn into a homicidal maniac. I feel sorry that she has to be tied to someone like me because I know these attacks will never end. I may be able to control myself a little better than in the beginning, but she would always have to careful. She would always have to be wary of me. I hated that thought. Right now, I hated myself. I hated that I couldn't control myself. I despised that Snow had taken the one thing that I had tried to hold on to. I wanted to show him that he didn't own me; that he couldn't change me but he found a way. He found a way to break me; make me unstable; make me untrustworthy. I hated him for changing me. But everyone tells me that my recovery shows that he didn't own me; that I am still me...somewhere. I think it is awfully hard to find the boy I was before the Games, but he must be there somewhere. Otherwise, I wouldn't be sane at all.

'Confused,' I say after a long pause.  
Her face drops and immediately I want to take it back. Her eyes are sad as she looks at me.

'Peeta, it's okay to be confused,' she soothes. 'I don't know how you wouldn't be after an attack.'

'I'm not confused about that,' I say quickly. 'I've gotten used to it,' I add with a smile. 'I'm confused about how I ended up in bed. Last I remember I was lying on the cold bathroom floor, watching -' I trail off. I don't want to upset Katniss. It would be best if she didn't know what I saw during the attacks. She already has enough nightmares without me giving her fodder for more.

'Watching what?' She asks, leaning towards me.

'Nothing,' I lie. 'Nothing important anyway,' I add when she raises her eyebrow at me questioningly.

Her mouth opens in protest.  
'Katniss, I don't want to talk about it,' I sigh, suddenly drained of energy.

'Okay, okay,' she says, raising her hands in front of her defensively.

'How's the head?' Katniss tries again.

'My head? What's wrong with my head?' I laugh.

Katniss raises her eyebrow again.  
'You don't remember?'

'Of course I remember,' I lie to her. I turn to face her better and a blinding pain in the base of my skull makes me lie down again. My stomach swirls.  
Gingerly, I touch the back on my head. I find the soft cotton of bandages wrapped around my skull.

'During the attack,' Katniss explains. 'You hit your head off the door. When Haymitch and I finally broke into the bathroom, you were lying on the floor, unconscious in a pool of blood. It was terrifying,' she smiles weakly.

'I'm sorry,' I mumble, rubbing my head tiredly.

'Why are you apologising?' she scoffs.

'For scaring you,' I offer as a weak explanation. In reality, I mean sorry for so much more than scaring her. My apology goes deeper than that; I am sorry for trying to kill her in the Capitol, I am sorry that she has to take care of me, I am sorry that she is tied to someone as unstable as me.

'Peeta do not apologise for this,' she reprimands me. 'This is not your fault and you handle it so well,' she says gently. Katniss flashes a playful smile at me. 'You must be improving as well. You left the room when you knew the attack was coming, but I don't approve of you hiding in the bathroom,' she raises an eyebrow and I grin shyly.

'So you and Haymitch dragged me to bed?'

'Haymitch stumbled more than anything.' Katniss rolls her eyes, exasperated. 'But yes, we got you from the bathroom to bed and I bandaged your wound.'

'Thank you,' I yawn, completely drained.

'Maybe you should get some rest,' Katniss says. 'I know how those attacks can take it out of you.'

'No, I'm fine,' I protest. 'I have already been out of it long enough,' I reason. Another yawn betrays me.

Katniss laughs. 'Go to sleep.'

'No,' I whisper. I don't want to sleep. After an attack, my sleep is haunted by nightmares, each more horrific than the last. I can't face that now. My fear must be clear because Katniss reaches forward and grabs my hand.

'It's okay, Peeta. None of it can hurt you,' she soothes.

Of course she understands. Katniss has more nightmares than I do. Or at least, she used to. I will still hear her scream from time to time, but all in all she seems to cope much better now. It is usually me who wakes up in a cold sweat.

'I'll stay with you,' she promised. 'I won't let it scare you.'  
A faint, nostalgic smile spreads across her face.

'Remember when I made you promise that?' she asks tenderly.

'Of course,' I nod emphatically.

'I still hold you to that,' she laughs.

'Oh don't worry, you can't get rid of me that easily,' I chuckle.  
My eyelids droop and I stifle another yawn.

'Do you want me to stay?' Katniss asks as I close my eyes, knowing I can't fight the drowsiness forever. I have no energy after an attack.

'Always,' I mumble before drifting off to sleep, haunted by nightmares filled with rats and blood and torture.


End file.
